Brownies and Pokeballs
by duvalia
Summary: Only the best of the best can make it into Task Force 141. Members are at a level higher than the rest of the world and their New Year's party shows just how high.


**A/N: **Written for **Jacob0392** who suggested I write a party story with lots of drinking, drugs, and random stupidness. Meant for the New Year, but I really suck with the whole deadline thing. Possibly incoherent with all the inhibitory substances and characters, but I have to admit that this story was insanely fun to write.

**Warnings: **Recreational drugs, binge drinking, sexual references and loads of swearing. Overall cracky, random, stupidness. And I used 'f*ck' and its many variations over thirty times. Remember: Drugs are bad and alcohol in moderation.

* * *

Toad groaned as he scanned the rec room, not at all pleased with its occupants. "This is a fucking sausage fest," he complained and set two bottles of whiskey, his contribution to the party, on the table.

Ozone grabbed one bottle, opened it and took a long drink, not even one flinch at the taste as he slammed the bottom back onto the table. "You drink enough and it won't matter," Ozone laughed. "Hey watch it!" He yelled when someone bumped into him in order to reach for the open bottle. "Oh hey, didn't see you there, Lieutenant."

Ghost chuckled, taking a swig. "First off, I don't think there's enough alcohol in the world to make me think you're a gal I'd like to take to bed." He held the bottle out to Ozone. "And secondly, loosen up. We're about the celebrate another bloody year."

"Bloody as in you're English or bloody as in you've killed a lot of people?"

"Fuck, the sun barely set and you guys are already drinking?"

"See Roach, the key words in your question are 'sun' and 'set'. _No _sun equals it's not too early to pop open the champagne. Live a little."

"Oh, _I _don't live? I party until the fucking edge dude."

"That why you're wearing an oven mitt?" Chemo catcalled from the couch where he was taking shots of tequila with MacTavish. "Get back in the kitchen and make me a sandwich, babe."

"Since you can't tell, I'm flipping you off."

Ghost watched as Roach headed back into the kitchen to finish whatever cooking he was doing for the New Year's Eve festivities. Intrigued by the card drinking game MacTavish was playing with Chemo he pulled a beer from the cooler and sauntered over to the couch. "Game?"

Chemo looked up briefly before cursing as MacTavish muttered "drink" and flipped down a queen then two sixes. "I have no idea what it's called, but I think I'm getting pretty tipsy."

"Bottoms up, mate," MacTavish cheered pouring the amber liquid into five different shot glasses.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you?" Chemo muttered, picking up a shot glass in each hand.

MacTavish smirked. "If you can't handle it, I could always take some for you."

"Fuck, I don't need your help. Don't go insulting my manhood." They all watched as Chemo downed each of the five shots in succession, a sudden shudder going up his body as he emptied the last one. "I just know I'm going to taste that again in a few hours."

"Want to play?" MacTavish asked Ghost, shuffling the deck of cards.

"Hey! We're not done yet!" Chemo yelled before a wave of dizziness overcame him. "Aw, shit. No I think I'm done."

"Damn! You're fucking hot!"

All three men turned around, the possibility of a woman in their midst. Jester, the one who had spoken, was laughing his head off as he pointed at Royce. Archer was holding a hand the Royce's face, which was beet red as a result of drinking.

"Sorry I got your hopes up. I meant hot in terms of I could light a blunt with the heat radiating off his face," Jester managed, struggling to breathe. "Chemo, don't you have something to help him?"

Chemo squinted up at him. "Uhm, yeah. Hold on. Hey Doc, help me!"

The medic flipped him off, his other hand wrapped around a bottle of beer. "I'm off duty. Any obligations I have to helping you can wait until next year."

"Don't you have to take some Hippocratic oath or something?"

"And to quote it, 'I consider for the benefit of my patient and abstain from whatever is harmful or mischievous'. Meaning, I don't kill you and I'm good. Besides, taking that oath wasn't required at my school."

"It's official. Doc wants to kill us all."

Chemo stood unsteadily, but managed to make it into the kitchen.

"Those were the best fucking brownies I have ever eaten."

"Weren't you suppose to share?" Chemo asked slouching into a chair next to Roach.

"I couldn't stop eating them." Roach's eyes were glassy and he couldn't help grinning at nothing. "What brings you to the kitchen?"

"Oh fuck. Royce needs some pills."

"Which ones?"

"The good ones?"

"Aye, aye sir," Roach acknowledged digging into his pocket. "You looked fucked up."

"Give the pills to Royce, will you?"

"Yes sir." Roach walked back into the rec room glancing at the different groups. Doc, MacTavish, and Ghost were playing some card drinking game and the lieutenant was starting to look a little drunk. Toad and Ozone were sitting next to a hookah attempting to outshine each other in blowing a better smoke circle. Whoever lost, apparently took a shot of brandy. Archer, Royce, Jester and Hacker were sitting at a four sided table playing King's Cup.

"I've never slept with a woman younger than me," Hacker stated. Jester took a drink, while Archer stared at this glass as if debating whether or not to drink it. "What's the hold up man?"

"I have no idea if that prostitute I slept with last week was older than me or not," he slurred.

Jester laughed. "She was probably underage."

"Hey Royce, take this. You should feel better," Roach assured his friend, dropping the pill onto the table.

"Screw it, just drink it Archer."

The sniper shrugged, downed his drink, and flipped the next card in the deck. "Jack, huh?" He glanced at Jester. "Category, people who've slept with the joker here."

"I guess we all drink since Jester's a virgin and there's no one to name," Hacker teased already polishing off his drink.

"Fuck you Hacker."

"Oh, shall I be your first?"

Jester decided to ignore the computer genius and turned to Roach instead. "Want to sit for me?"

"I'm fucking full." Roach stated, rubbing his stomach. "Hey Chemo!" He yelled towards the kitchen. The man stumbled out before asking what the sergeant wanted. "Sit in for Jester."

"Fine," Chemo muttered stumbling into the room.

Bored with the King's Cup party, Roach walked over to MacTavish eager to see the captain get wasted. He sat next to Ghost on the couch and watched MacTavish flip three cards over after muttering the word, 'give'. Ghost cursed at the look in his captain's eyes.

"Drink up, lieutenant. I give all three shots to you," MacTavish announced with a self satisfied look on his face.

Ghost scowled, but polished off each drink within moments. The cards were once again dealt and it was MacTavish's turn to swear when all cards were sevens. "Bottoms up mate."

"Hey Ghost, Ghost. Listen. I love you man," Roach muttered suddenly.

The lieutenant smiled, knowing his friend had probably had too much to drink. "Yeah, I know Roach."

"No Ghost, I love you."

At this statement, Ghost turned to Roach and incredulous look on his face. "You _love _me?"

Roach sobered immediately. "Fuck, not like that. What the hell you smoking?"

"What are _you_ smoking?" Ghost replied. "What the fuck!" He yelled as someone pulled off his sunglasses.

Jester giggled and swirled the sunglasses around in one hand. He practically yelped when Ghost immediately stood ready to tackle him.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Ghost raged and chased after Jester, but his foot hit the leg of the coffee table and he fell face first onto the plywood floor. "Give those back, you bloody wanker!" He yelled, the contact with the floor while trivial compared to a gunshot wound was enough to reduce him to a pathetic mess on the floor.

Jester laughed, the scars on his face elongating his smile. "Catch me first, you damn Brit!" He flattened himself against a corner of the room, firstly so he wouldn't get caught off guard and secondly because he could barely walk and therefore used the walls for support. "I don't get how you can see with these things." As soon as he slipped Ghost's trademark sunglasses over his eyes, he wavered and fell to his ass, having lost his balance. "Fuck! No wonder you do, you'd be fucking blind without them!"

"Those are prescription sunglasses?" Roach giggled as he took the shades from Jester. "Oh shit! As if my vision wasn't blurry enough." The sergeant held his arms out attempting to balance himself. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"You didn't even have anything to drink!" Doc yelled and threw a pillow from the couch across the room, sending Roach to the floor at impact.

"Ah, fuck. I'm seriously going to throw up," Roach whined.

"Get away from me!" Jester muttered, pressing the bottom of his boots against Roach's face in an attempt to get the man as far away from him as possible.

"But he didn't fucking drink anything!" Ghost yelled as he finally managed to get up with the help of Ozone.

"Yeah, but he ate the whole damn batch of brownies."

"So?"

"Roach fucking packs that shit with weed. After his first brownie he got the fucking munchies, so he ended up finishing the whole tray."

"I'm not some lightweight," Roach mumbled, his head hovering over a trashcan.

Jester started rubbing a hand up and down Roach's back. "I'll prove you wrong," he laughed.

"Fuck you Jester," Roach muttered before he emptied the contents of his stomach into the trashcan. "Those brownies don't taste as good coming back up."

"Get off me Royce!" Hacker shrieked as he tried to push Royce away from him. "Shit. What'd you give him Chemo?" He nudged the man in the head, but Chemo's eyes remained closed. "Fuck, he's out for the night."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chemo opened his eyes as sunlight peered at him from behind the blinds. "Fuck. Someone turn off the sun and drill a hole in my head so this fucking hangover will go away."

"Just shut the fuck up," Doc yelled from across the room.

"Give me something for this hangover, Doc!"

The medic gave Ozone the finger. "I have my own damn hangover to deal with."

"What time is it?" Ghost asked, a bucketful of vomit sitting next to him. "Shit, it fucking smells."

MacTavish lit a cigarette, trying to clear his head and he ended up coughing as he inhaled too much. "What the hell am I smoking?"

Roach looked over and bolted upright, which he decided was an incredibly stupid thing to do. "Ah, fuck Captain. Those are my roaches."

"Your what?"

"My _awesome _stash."

Royce stirred, immediately noticing he was only in his boxers. "What the fuck happened last night? None of you jumped me right?" His asshole wasn't burning, so he figured it was safe to say he hadn't done something he regretted.

"Shit, Chemo gave you a Zantac after you started turning red and then you got all touchy-feel then started taking your clothes off," Ozone answered. "And you start accusing _us_ off pounding into you."

Chemo rolled over, but as he was situated on the couch he ended up falling on the floor and onto Toad.

"If I could fucking see straight, I'd beat you in the head with my rifle… if I knew where _that_ was."

"I was supposed to give him Zantac? Fuck, I gave him Pokeballs."

"Like that old kids show?" Hacker yelled from his spot on the floor.

"I gave him the letter."

"Herpes?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The letter 'E'. You know… ecstasy."

"But why Pokeballs?"

"Don't make me think so much," Chemo moaned.

"At least you're all fucking comfy where you are," Toad complained weakly pushing their resident drug supplier off of him. Chemo grunted as his head made contact with a leg of the table in the process.

"Same with MJ. Different types."

Toad sat up and leaned against the sofa, a contemplative look on his face. "But Royce isn't Asian."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Ghost muttered.

"The Asian glow."

"You don't have to be Asian to fucking get that shit. What are you on?"

"I think I was on acid. That stuff is fucking crazy ass shit. Just looking at the carpet was a mindfuck. It was moving in waves."

"Where the hell did you get acid?"

"It's New Year's Eve!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Best time to get fucked up?"

"One time my sister was playing some game set during the Crusades with a shit load of swords and next thing I know I fucking see knives and swords everywhere. That was the worst fucking paranoid trip I've ever had."

MacTavish, the most sober among them was suddenly hit with a very important question. "What time is it?"

"I think we missed welcoming the New Year."

"Fuck."


End file.
